


Time Enough To Learn

by puff22_2001



Category: Twilight Zone
Genre: Angst, Canon Disabled Character, Families of Choice, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Original Character Death(s), Orphans, Post-Apocalypse, Survival
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24727975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puff22_2001/pseuds/puff22_2001
Summary: There was time, now. Time to grow and learn. Time to be the leader that he never was at the bank or in his home. Time enough to find a real family, after the end.
Relationships: Henry Bemis & Original Female Character, Henry Bemis & Original Male Character, Original Female Character & Original Male Character
Kudos: 5





	Time Enough To Learn

**Author's Note:**

> I hate the canonical ending to "Time Enough at Last." I understand what the Twilight Zone creators were going for in regards to Henry's "vice," but the ending is so cruel to me, a fellow nerdy bookworm. Hence this fix-it fic that is still 100% canonical but just swoops on past the tears.

He cried, sitting on the library steps, the tears seeping through his dusty fingers. There had been time, but now his only hope for salvation lay in shards on the concrete. His glasses were broken beyond repair. Henry sobbed harder as he remembered that he would surely die soon; he couldn’t see well enough to walk safely through the rubble and find food or shelter for when the weather turned.

“Mister?” A timid voice at his ear startled Henry and he scrambled up a few steps, his jacket catching on one of his stacks of books and tumbling the whole thing.

“Who, who’s there?” All the man could see as he looked frantically around were the rough splotches of color where destroyed buildings had been.

“I’m sorry to startle you, Mister, but can you help us?” Henry turned sharply and saw two new splotches on the steps below him; two children.

“How are you here? Alive?” Henry asked, grasping towards the bigger one. Both shrunk back and Henry dropped his arms in panic. “I’m not going to hurt you, please! Please don’t leave.”

Although the children kept their distance, the taller of the two spoke again. Henry guessed them to be a little girl, perhaps no more than ten or twelve.

“What happened, Mister? What happened?”

Henry fought the urge to explain in depth, he was so glad to have other people with which to talk. Henry liked children, as well. The ones who came into the bank with their parents liked to hear about his stories, and he always had a sucker or two tucked away in his drawers for little visitors.

“There was a bomb, I think. Do you know what bombs are?”

The child who had spoken scoffed, though Henry could hear a tremble in her voice. “I know what bombs are. Our daddy fought in the War.”

Henry himself had not. His eyesight had already been bad enough twenty years ago that he’d managed to avoid going overseas. Henry had been relieved beyond description. That fact had been yet another disappointment to his family and friends. Bad enough that he was a bookworm, but a cowardly one at that.

“Well, my dear, I do believe there was a bomb. And we might, we might be all that’s left.”

The smaller of the children sniffled, though all Henry saw was blurry shapes. Henry might have left them to grieve for a moment if he could ever remember his manners. But Henry Bemis had learned long ago that he lacked social grace. Helen, his wife, reminded him of that daily. Besides which, in such a situation courtesy was low on the list of priorities.

Still, his voice was gentle as Henry questioned the children. “How did you--not know?”

“The kids at school--they bully Alvie. We hide in the fallout shelter during recess. No one ever looks there because it’s full of old furniture and stuff.” The little girl was clearly trying to suppress her own tears and doing a poor job. Perhaps Alvie was too young to fully understand, but his sister was not.

“The door was closed?”

“I always close the door and push an old chair up against. Tommy Johnson is big and mean and he’ll hit girls, so I block the door.”

“Well, you won’t have to worry about Tommy Johnson any longer, my dear.”

Alvin finally spoke then, a frightened voice that sounded too much like a much-younger Henry for the man’s liking. “What about Mommy and Daddy? And Puddles?”

“Don’t worry, Alvie, I’m here. We’re going to find our house and then we’re going to find Mommy and Daddy too. Remember, we live six big stops from the library? And here’s the library!”

“I’m so tired, Sally. I don’t wanna walk six big stops.”

Henry spoke then, to avoid what sounded like an impending tantrum. “How long have you been alone out here? It’s been days.”

“I don’t know. We slept in a grocer’s since we left the school. The food was good, right Alvie?” Sally’s shape wiggled, turning towards her brother. Her voice remained wet, but Henry could hear the attempt at cheer.

Alvie replied, his discomfort forgotten for a moment. “Yeah! We had all the bread and jam we wanted!”

“And twinkies, remember? And we have more in my backpack if you’re good.”

“Children, I don’t mean to be rude,” Henry interrupted them as Sally consoled Alvie with promises of more treats to come, “But I’ve broken my glasses. See, there? On the steps there?”

The Sally splotch moved farther away and bent towards the ground. The Alvie splotch, instead, came so close to Henry that he could almost make out the boy’s actual features. Henry leaned back, disconcerted. He liked children, yes, but perhaps not so close as to touch. There were many reasons that he and Helen had not had children, and his fear of breaking them was a fairly large one.

“You can’t see nothing?”

“Unfortunately, no. I can’t even drive, you see, without them.”

Sally came back to them and touched Henry on the arm. “I thought maybe I could fix them, but they’re real broke, Mister.”

Henry stifled a sob. He’d known when he’d picked them up, but he’d hoped that he’d been too hasty.

“Don’t cry! Our daddy says big boys don’t cry.” Alvie said as he patted Henry’s shoulder. “Do you want to come with us? Our mommy can fix them for you.”

“Do, do you want to, Mister? Maybe we can find you new ones somewhere.”

“Sally! Mommy will fix them!” Alvie said firmly, still patting Henry softly. Henry himself stopped trying to hide his emotions and began to cry in earnest again.

“I’m very sorry, children. I am! But I can’t, I can’t see well enough to walk.”

They stayed near while he cried, unnaturally quiet for children. When Henry had finally stopped, he could see the two huddled in front of him. Alvie was doing something that sounded like scratching; Henry could only assume that the child was using rubble to deface the steps. Sally stood up as Henry hiccuped and held out a hand.

“Our Daddy said--says that a baby step is still a step. We’ll lead you, Mister.”

Henry looked up at the blurry arm in relief and sadness. He couldn’t possibly expect these children--orphans now--to help him. But he was so lonely and scared. He couldn’t possibly let them leave.

“All right.”


End file.
